“The car was driving aggressively towards the officer, prompting the shot.”
– Jonathan Haber, Police Chief, Balch Springs Police Department
“In an hurry to get the statement out, I misspoke.”
-Police Chief Haber (following the review of the police body camera)
“Our teenage sons can’t sleep at night. They are either sleeping in the bed with us or sleeping with all the lights on.
When they fall asleep, they are having night terrors of seeing their brother murdered right there in front of them.
When they dream, they see Jordan, with smoke coming out of his head from the shot. That’s what they were forced to see.
Our four-year-old daughter, who has accidentally overheard what happened, is drawing pictures of her big brother with a hole in his head. What are we supposed to say to her?”
-Odell Edwards, Jordan Edwards’ father
My Dear Readers,
My heart is heavy. In my previous blog At The Crossroads: Empowerment When Playing The Game Is Not Enough, I was chided for perceived criticism of black parents seeking safety and protection raising their children in suburban communities.
Last week the Edwards family, a two parent African-American family with three teenage sons and a four year old daughter who reside in a suburb of Dallas, Texas, were the living the American dream. Today, as the nation prepares for the upcoming annual Mother’s Day celebration, they have become just another black family preparing to bury their son, living a uniquely American nightmare.
Following the shooting death of Jordan Edwards, the police chief, without having reviewed the evidence, moved quickly to assert that the officer shot in self-defense.
There is, of course, the societal belief that these young black males were either gang members or malcontents involved in criminal activity, and therefore, got what they justly deserved. As it turns out, they were simply kids at a neighborhood party who had left out of a sense of responsibility as it had got too crowded and rowdy.
As reported by Shaun King from the New York Daily News:
“Police swarmed the car, which was their dad’s personal vehicle, and forced all of the boys out at gunpoint. The police, cursing and yelling, expressed no concern for Jordan.
As police demanded that the boys face away from them and walk backwards with their hands held above their heads, one of the cops, according to the sons, loudly mocked them for not knowing their left from their right. They had just seen their brother shot in the forehead with a rifle.
At that point, Vidal, Kevon and their friend, who was in the car with them, were not only traumatized beyond comprehension, they were seriously wondering if they’d be shot and killed next.
What they were arrested for was being black kids in their own car, obeying the law, while witnessing their brother shot in the face by police, but no one could quite tell the the truth about that. My guess is that the police hope they will find something-drugs, alcohol, expired registration, or a weapon of some sort but they found nothing. The boys, in the most traumatic moment of their lives, had been profiled and detained for no reason on top of it all.”
There are countless variations on quotes exhorting us to never give up. One variation is “Bad things happen; what matters most is that you get up and keep going.”
The Edwards family represents the embodiment of the American middle class family. When closing one’s eyes, what does one see? A two-parent family residing in a suburban community, well respected, churchgoers with three teenage sons attending the local high school with no history of disciplinary concerns and unknown to the local police or judicial authorities.
Jordan Edwards was a straight A student, athlete. He was everything his parents wanted him to be: smart, kind, hardworking, giving and a lover of sports
Now they have buried him one week before Mother’s Day.
The Edwards family also represents the embodiment of the nightmare for black families although breathing the same air, living in two alternative universes. I am reminded of a recent Subaru auto sales commercial directed at two racial groups one white, the other black.
In the “white commercial,” it focuses on a little white boy growing up and driving his father’s car off to college with graying dad, mom standing with the family dog, with a prideful look waving farewell as he goes off to explore his new world. In the “black commercial,” the teenager tells his mother that he’s taking the car to see his friends.
One commercial celebrates the bright and hopeful future of a confident and secure young man and the pride of his parents as he leaves home The other leaves out the truth of the stress and anxiety of the parent in quiet contemplation, fearing for the safety of her son and not being able to rest until his feet are heard back in the home again.
In his article, Shaun King writes that:
“The police have actually asked if they could attend the funeral, but they haven’t apologized for what they have done.”
It may be incredulous to some that the police would even ask to be in same space of those who have suffered severe psychological trauma by one of their own. Or, it may be seen as an act of human connection on the part of the police reaching out to the family and the community.
The truth of this incident is the fact that psychological trauma is a permanent etching on the psychological self. Fifteen-year-old Jordan Edwards’ future is over. His family will forever be impacted by this event as well as the understanding that other black families continue to be at risk for a similar experience.
The tragic death of Jordan Edwards reaffirm that our children represent our Achilles Heel, the soft area that we cannot protect from race related aggression.
Rather than focus on protecting our young people from racial strife, we should engage in empowering strategies that will also focus on healing the psychological wounds they are bound to continue to encounter in their lives.
“’To err is human’ is a common expression, but we should not believe there is always room for error. In some cases there is no room for error. None.”
-Dr. Micheal Kane, Ten Flashes of Light
Until the next crossroads. The journey continues…